He Will Withhold No Good Thing

I have a tendency towards pessimism.  I can focus far too easily on that one thing which went wrong instead of the multitude of things that went right.  Significant failures can plague me for weeks and even years.

Such-and-such isn't working

So-and-so is too difficult to deal with

This-and-that are endlessly frustrating

Light dispels darkness.

Yesterday, a friend reminded me to look around and choose to be thankful for all the undeserved gifts that come daily.  Posted prominently on the wall at home, she has these words written:

For the Lord God is a sun and shield;
    the Lord bestows favor and honor.
No good thing does he withhold
    from those who walk uprightly.   - Psalm 84:11

She finds life and encouragement in these words, believing as I do that God is a good Father who gives good gifts to His children.  This stuck with me and as I went on with my day, it rang through my mind - No good thing does he withhold.

Discovering a new forest path on a rainy afternoon.  Wonderful conversations with close friends.  Previously abandoned hopes unexpectedly fulfilled.  Cool breeze in the early mornings.  Unexpected camping trips.  As I think on events large and small over the last month, I see many of them as wonderful and undeserved gifts.

Look for those gifts.  Look for those good things - even and especially when life is difficult.

What gifts have you been given recently?

This life has much goodness, if we have eyes to see.

Build Your Central Park

It's 7 PM.  A pair of sparrows stop briefly by to twitter on about something important while joggers and canines breeze by.  Sun shines from behind as I sit on our deck.  Reflecting.  Resting, if only for a short while.

Thoughtful wanderings at dusk at the Howard County Conservancy.

It is easy to say yes to so many activities that we suddenly find ourselves running too fast to think or even process the very events surrounding us.  Such has happened to me far too often in recent years; consequently, I've discovered that I must deliberately carve out time to not doing anything that I'd consider stressful.

Two weeks ago, I shared several lessons learned reading Jon Acuff's Start.  Another huge reminder in his book was this advice from his friend, Al Andrews:

Build Your Central Park

New York City has a giant green space in the midst of skyscrapers, a world of relaxation nestled in the midst of a kingdom of frenzied movement.  What if that city had no central park?  What if our lives have no built-in place of respite and recreation?

What recharges you?  How do you rest?  For me, taking time to be out in the wilderness, writing, playing music, or good conversation with a close friend is soul-restoration.  I need this time to thrive.  Without it, I merely survive.

Build yourself a Central Park.  Guard it.  Nurture it.  And perhaps you'll find the times in which you work and strive and create to be all the more focused and impactful.

We need to take breaks from our busyness to recreate, recenter, and revive.

Investment is Not About Money

There is an old story about a rich man who invested in three individuals, giving about $5 million to one, $2 million to another, and $1 million to the third.  He went away on a journey, expecting to find, when he was to come home again, that they had stewarded his investments and made a good return.  Upon his arrival, he discovered that the first two had doubled his investment, while the third simply buried it for safekeeping.  The first two, he praised; the third, he denounced as lazy, even evil.

This story, told by Jesus, is not about money, and it's about far more than I will write here.  Nevertheless, perhaps a question behind the story can be stated this way:

What will you do with the life you have been given?

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Belle Island, Richmond.

It's easy for me to ask myself this question and feel an immense burden to do something meaningful and lasting and great, in essence paralyzing myself into inaction - afraid to mess up and consequently doing nothing at all.  I have a tendency like that third individual, to put my gifts in the bank and wait.

Bu what if the question is not a burden, but an invitation?  In the story I mention, we see great wrath come upon the lazy man for his inaction.  That cannot be taken lightly.  At the same time, what if God asks of us "What will you do with this life I've given to you?" with something of a grin and a gleam in His eye and an outstretched hand? In the midst of whatever uncertainty or self-doubt or difficulty - will you do the wonderful and difficult work of bringing light into a dark place?  Of leaving the world a better place than you found it?

Will you keep going when you fall, when life's disappointments threaten to overwhelm?  Will you wake up and take another risk?  Will you, like Jeremy Cowart has done, replace the word impossible with I'm possible?  What dividends will come through your perseverance in whatever situation comes to your mind as you read this?

I've got things in that bank vault that need to see daylight.  I need to learn to begin each day with this thought - today I have the chance and the choice to invest in hope. Today I can responsibly invest the gifts I've been given.

So:

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

— Mary Oliver

Choose Meaningful Work

Wen was the last time you found yourself in the midst of a project that was deeply fulfilling and truly meaningful?

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Do goats have meaningful goals?  Eating everything and climbing the tallest possible object are solid candidates.

Several months ago, during a job interview, I was asked about my college senior design project experience. Having neglected to go back and refresh my memory of that accomplishment, I fumbled my explanation of our work and my contributions.  Yet, when they asked about my Eagle Scout leadership project, which I had completed in 2005, I had no problem sharing what I had accomplished, the challenges I had faced, and a wide variety of specifics throughout that particular design process.  I'd done no refreshing of memory; I had no need for it.

The key difference? Personal buy-in.

My Eagle Scout project mattered to me. The fence we built for the local conservancy provided a habitat for several goats, much to the delight of countless preschool tours and other guests over the last ten years.  While I'm not generally excited about goats, the chance to benefit an important institution in our community, alongside good friends and my father (for whom I was determined to reach Eagle), drove me forward.

My senior design project was, in the end, about a good grade. We were designing a SCRAMjet test rig with grant money from a large aerospace firm.  Interesting work, good friends on the team, decent progress by the completion of the year, and certainly important research.  Yet, frankly, I had little personal stake in it. It was a responsibility, but not a joy - perhaps mostly because I knew I would not see a direct positive effect on my life and community as a result of our work (at least for many years!).

Whenever possible, seek meaningful work. Seek opportunities that align with your heart. Oftentimes, we must do something because it must be done, but the experiences you remember decades later will be those you chose because they truly mattered.

What meaningful project is just over your horizon?